*re>  14  191® 

In  Jttemariam. 


SERVICES 

AT 

/ 

ST.  MARK’S  CHURCH  IN  THE  BOWERIE, 


ST.  MARK’S  MISSION  CHAPEL, 
(ftommemorattb* 

OF  THE 

Rev.  HENRY  DUYCKINCK. 


‘ 


THE  RICH  AND  POOR  MEET  TOGETHER. 


A SERMON 

IN  BEHALF  OF  THE 

pissimr  Modi  of  St.  Park's  CljaprI, 

BY  THE 

Rev.  HENRY  DUYCKINCK, 

LATE  MINISTER  IN  CHARGE. 

WITH 

INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS  BY  THE  REV.  HENRY  C.  POTTER,  D.  D. 
DELIVERED  AT  ST.  MARK’S  CHURCH  IN  THE  BOWERIE. 

AND 

% Jftnmal  S-ermotr 

BY  THE 

Key.  EDWARD  H.  KEANS. 

PREACHED  AT  ST.  MARK’S  CHAPEL,  FEBRUARY  27,  1870. 

£®ith  otheq  Ptamoqial  Roticss. 

NEW  YORK: 

PRINTED  FOR  ST.  MARK’S  MISSION  SOCIETY. 

1870. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/sermoninbehalfofOOduyc 


ST.  MARK’S  MISSION  CHAPEL. 

St.  Mark’s  Mission  was  started  early  in  the  year  1862, 
in  a room  of  No.  164  Avenue  A,  by  the  Rev.  A.  H.  Vin- 
ton, D.  D.,  Rector  of  St.  Mark’s  Church  in  the  Bowerie, 
as  a Sunday-school,  with  lay  services  in  the  evening,  under 
the  superintendence  of  the  Rev.  George  W.  Foote,  assisted 
by  the  Rev.  Octavius  Applegate,  both  students  at  that 
time  of  the  General  Theological  Seminary,  New  York. 

Early  in  the  year  1864,  the  Rector  of  St.  Mark’s  pur- 
chased the  present  Chapel  building,  155  Avenue  A.  On 
the  3d  of  July  of  this  year  the  Rev.  George  W.  Foote 
was  ordained  to  the  diaconate,  and  on  the  evening  of  that 
day  the  first  baptism  took  place,  when  fourteen  persons 
were  baptized  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Foote.  Here  we  may  date 
the  organization  of  the  Chapel,  although  a Confirmation 
class  of  seven  was  presented  by  Dr.  Vinton  to  Bishop 
Potter  on  the  24th  of  April  preceding,  at  St.  Mark’s  Church 
in  the  Bowerie. 

Mr.  Foote  remained  in  charge  of  the  Chapel  until  May, 

1 866,  when  he  resigned  and  took  charge  of  a parish  in  the 
western  part  of  the  State,  and  was  succeeded  at  the  Chapel 
by  the  Rev.  Thos.  R.  Harris,  who  assumed  charge  in  the 
month  of  July  following.  He  resigned  in  May,  1867,  and 
was  succeeded  in  July  following  by  the  Rev.  Justin  P.  Kel- 
logg, who  remained  in  charge  until  March,  1869;  he  was 
succeeded  in  the  month  of  April  by  the  Rev.  Edward  H. 
Krans,  who  remained  until  the  close  of  November,  when 
the  Rev.  Henry  Duyckinck  assumed  charge  and  remained 
until  his  death,  which  took  place  February  16,  1870. 

burton  HIST,  collection 

DETROIT 

exchange  duplicate 


4 


In  May,  1867,  an  association  was  organized  under  the 
laws  of  the  State  of  New  York,  entitled  “ The  St.  Mark’s 
in  the  Bowerie  Mission  Society  in  the  City  of  New  York,” 
to  which  the  Mission  property  was  conveyed  by  Dr.  Vin- 
ton, in  1868. 

There  is  a Primary  Day-school  connected  with  the 
Chapel,  which  was  transferred  from  the  Parish  Church  in 
April,  1865,  under  the  management  of  Miss  Margaret  Ray, 
assisted  by  her  sister  Miss  Fanny  Ray.  The  average  at- 
tendance at  this  school  has  been  1 50  daily. 

Mr.  William  Raeburn  entered  upon  his  duty  in  1864  as 
lay  visitor  and  collector  for  the  support  of  the  Chapel,  and 
for  the  St.  Luke’s  Association  of  St.  Mark’s  Church  in  the 
Bowerie,  which  position  he  still  retains. 

In  January,  1865,  Mrs.  William  Raeburn  was  employed 
as  Bible-reader  and  Superintendent  of  the  Mothers’  In- 
dustrial meetings  which  are  held  on  Wednesday  evenings 
of  each  week,  except  during  the  Lenten  season. 

Dr.  Iretus  G.  Cardner,  221  E.  58th  St.,  has  generously 
and  faithfully  served  as  physician  for  the  Mission. 

The  Mission  has  been  a remarkably  successful  one. 


Total  number  of  baptisms  - 

- 

- 312 

u u 

confirmations 

- 

- 222 

u << 

burials 

- 

- 88 

<<  u 

marriages  - 

- 

- 34 

TRUSTEES  OE  THE  CHAPEL. 


HENRY  B.  REN  WICK,  President  and  Treasurer,  17  East  9th  Street. 
WILLIAM  H.  SCOTT, 

PETER  C.  SCHUYLER. 

SUPERINTENDENT  OF  SUNDAY  SCHOOL. 

JOHN  BOWNE. 


TEACHERS. 


Mrs.  Sarah  Marsh, 

Miss  Louisa  Dean, 

“ Eliza  Jane  Neyan, 

“ A.  E.  Dominick, 

“ Sarah  S.  Chapman, 

“ Martha  E.  Russell, 

“ Mary  Jane  Newsted, 
“ Christina  Shand, 

“ Martha  Stenzel. 

*•  Augusta  Osmer, 

“ Louisa  Armbrecht. 

“ Annie  Williams. 


Miss  Sarah  M.  Burke, 

“ Eliza  P.  Bowne, 

“ Kattie  Helmrich, 

“ Caroline  Oirard, 

“ Jennie  Lamb, 

“ M.  L.  Christian, 

“ Bertha  Zimmer, 

“ Henrietta  Bennet, 
Mr.  Marcus  A.  Gilbert, 

*f  Robert  Hume, 

“ James  Anderson, 

“ Dunbar. 


Librarian— Mr.  William  King, 


First  Assistant  Librarian— Master  Jacob  Kopp, 
Second  “ “ —Master  Joseph  Kay, 

Collector  and  Secretary  —Mr.  David  Kay, 
Organist  and  Quoir  Leade?'— Miss  Jane  M.  Burke. 


The  last  composition  for  the  pulpit  of  the  late  Rev.  Henry 
Duyckinck,  written  within  a week  of  the  time  he  was  taken  ill,  was  a 
sermon  prepared  by  request  to  be  preached  in  St.  Mark’s  Church,  in 
the  Bowerie,  setting  forth  the  mission  work  of  St.  Mark’s  Chapel. 
The  morning  of  Sunday,  February  13th,  was  appointed  for  the  delivery 
of  this  discourse.  At  that  time  its  writer  was  prostrated  by  his 
sickness.  After  his  death  it  was  thought  proper  by  the  Vestry  of  St. 
Mark’s  that  this  sermon  should  be  delivered  to  the  congregation.  The 
Rev.  Dr.  Henry  C.  Potter,  Rector  of  Grace  Church,  having  kindly  con- 
sented to  their  wish  that  he  should  undertake  this  service,  the  sermon 
was  read  by  him,  with  prefatory  remarks,  at  a special  Memorial 
Service,  held  at  the  Church,  on  the  evening  of  Sunday,  February  27, 
1870. 


INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS 


BY  THE 

REV.  HENRY  C.  POTTER,  D.  D. 


The  brother  in  whose  place  I stand  to-night,  and 
whose  discourse,  prepared  by  him  for  this  congregation, 
I am  about  to  read  to  you,  was  so  little  known  to  many 
to  whom  I speak,  that  I venture  to  preface  his  appeal  for 
St.  Mark’s  Mission  with  a few  words  concerning  his  ear- 
lier history,  and  his  previous,  all  too  brief  ministry. 

Henry  Duyckinck,  the  son  of  Evert  A.  and  Margaret 
Wolfe  Duyckinck,  was  born  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
November  6,  1843.  He  was  baptized  at  St.  Thomas’ 
Churqh  by  the  Rev.  John  Henry  Hobart.  He  was  edu- 
cated at  home  and  in  Columbia  College,  whence  he  passed 
to  the  General  Theological  Seminary,  pursuing  the  usual 
three  years’  course  of  study  at  that  institution,  gradua 
ting  in  1867,  when  he  was  ordained  deacon  by  the  Bishop 
of  this  diocese.  His  first  service  was  in  the  parish  to 
which  he  had  always  been  attached,  at  St.  Thomas’ 
Church,  in  the  absence  of  the  rector  during  one  of  the 
summer  months.  Admitted  to  the  priesthood  by  Bishop 
Potter  in  1868,  he  officiated  at  the  Church  of  the  Annun- 
ciation during  the  three  summer  months  of  that  year. 
In  the  winter  of  1868-9,  as  in  the  previous  winter,  he 
constantly  assisted  at  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Martyrs, 
under  the  pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  James  Millett,  and 
2 


continued  frequently  to  officiate  at  this  church  during 
the  remaining  portion  of  his  ministry.  In  the  summer 
of  1869,  during  the  absence  of  its  minister,  the  Rev. 
Walter  Delafield,  in  Europe,  he  had  charge  of  Grace 
Chapel,  his  next  continuous  service  being  as  minister  in 
charge  of  St.  Mark’s  Mission  Chapel,  the  duties  of  which 
he  entered  upon  on  the  first  of  December  last.  In  the 
course  of  his  ministry  he  performed  various  other  ser- 
vices more  or  less  of  a special  character,  at  different 
churches  in  New  York  and  its  vicinity,  preaching  fre- 
quently at  the  Mission  House  of  St.  Barnabas.  He  was, 
in  fact,  constantly  employed,  his  last  chapel  service  at  the 
Mission  of  St.  Mark’s,  being  on  the  evening  of  Wednes- 
day, February  9th,  on  which  occasion  he  read,  with  com- 
ments, the  whole  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  The  next 
morning  he  opened  the  day-school  of  the  Mission  with 
its  simple  religious  service,  and  that  day  came  home  ill, 
but  not  seriously,  as  it  was  thought.  A fever,  however, 
soon  developed  itself,  which  assumed  the  typhoid  form, 
and  early  on  the  morning  of  the  16th  terminated  his 
earthly  career. 

To  our  short-sighted  vision  nothing  could  well  be 
more  mysterious  than  the  termination  of  such  a life  at 
the  age  of  twenty -six  years.  Henry  Duyckinck  had  but 
just  found  opportunities  which  fairly  called  forth  those 
gifts  which  promised  to  make  his  ministry  so  wide  and 
real  a blessing.  Could  he  but  have  lived  a little  longer, 
it  seems  to  us,  looking  at  this  providence  of  the  Master 
from  our  side  of  it  only,  that  he  might  have  done  a noble 
and  blessed  work  for  God  and  His  Church. 

For  he  had,  in  the  first  place,  that  without  which  a man 


can  scarcely  hope  to  render  substantial  service  anywhere 
— a robust  physical  organization.  Until  death  struck  him 
so  sudden  and  so  sore  a blow,  he  had  enjoyed  almost  un- 
interrupted and  vigorous  health,  and  had  been  wonted  to 
endure  fatigue  and  the  strain  of  hard  work,  without  re- 
luctance and  without  physical  inconvenience.  His  habits 
were  active  and  laborious,  and  the  clear,  full  voice  with 
which  he  was  endowed,  made  the  public  services  of  the 
Church  no  wearisome  or  distressing  task. 

To  these  physical  qualifications  for  his  work,  he  added 
warm  and  deep  sympathies,  which  drew  him  toward  all 
classes  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  and  which,  despite 
his  retiring  and  unobtrusive  disposition,  made  him  the 
welcome  minister  to  those  in  sorrow,  and  especially  to  the 
sick  and  poor.  His  duties,  in  the  various  positions  which 
he  occupied,  led  him  much  among  these  ; but  he  went  in 
no  mechanical  way  and  with  no  perfunctory  spirit.  He 
understood  the  poor  with  that  deepest  insight,  which  is 
the  fruit  not  so  much  of  extended  observation  or  large 
experience,  as  of  real  and  heartfelt  sympathy. 

Coupled  wTith  this  characteristic  of  his  ministry,  there 
was  another  which  does  not  always  accompany  it,  I mean 
a sound  and  wise  judgment.  He  was  never  carried  away 
by  mere  feeling.  He  never  spoke  or  acted  from  a rash 
impulse ; and,  in  positions  requiring  peculiar  tact  and 
delicacy,  he  bore  himself  with  a wisdom,  discretion  and 
unswerving  singleness  and  simplicity  of  motive,  which 
were  as  rare  as  they  were  admirable. 

It  was  natural  that  such  a man  should  be  a loyal 
Churchman,  loving  the  Church  for  her  clear  witness  to 
the  truths  of  his  Master’s  gospel,  and  prizing  her  peace- 


ful  ways,  her  Apostolic  order  and  her  grand  simplicity 
of  creed  and  ritual,  above  novelties  of  every  name.  For 
these,  he  would  turn  aside  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor 
to  the  left,  and,  while  neither  narrowly  wedded  to  the 
past  nor  weakly  dreading  the  future,  he  saw  in  the  Re- 
formed standards  of  her  Catholic  faith  and  worship,  the 
best  hope  of  that  future,  as  well  as  the  truest  glory  of  her 
past. 

And  these  characteristics,  in  turn,  found  their  explana- 
tion largely  in  his  studious  and  thoughtful  habits,  which 
made  him  familiar  with  the  best  literature  of  the  past, 
and  educated  him  to  intelligent  acquaintance  with  church 
doctrine  and  Christian  history.  He  read  only  the  best 
authors  (would  that  we,  his  brethren,  could  as  resolutely 
refuse  to  be  beguiled  into  more  flowery  but  less  edifying 
paths !) ; and  modern  vagaries  of  doctrine  or  practice 
failed  utterly  to  get  the  slightest  hold  upon  his  sympath- 
thies  or  convictions.  Fie  seemed  incapable  of  doubt, 
and  he  put  aside  the  clever  sophistries  by  which  many 
minds,  in  our  day,  are  so  easily  disturbed,  without  being, 
for  a moment,  shaken  or  perplexed  by  them. 

But  there  were  in  him  nobler  qualities  than  these,  and 
first  among  them,  an  unselfish  and  unreservedly  devoted 
heart.  He  gave  himself  to  his  ministry  without  reluc- 
tance and  without  reserve.  He  did  not  look  for  ease, -and 
he  did  not  content  himself  with  merely  fulfilling  the  formal 
requirements  of  his  office.  He  worked  in  season  and  out 
of  season,  and  no  risk  or  exposure  deterred  him  from 
penetrating  into  the  darkest  abodes  of  penury,  or  igno- 
rance, or  disease.  We  may  not  trace  the  connection  be- 
tween the  illness  which  struck  him  down  and  the  perils 


!3 


of  that  laborious  ministry  which  preceded  it,  but  those 
who  knew  him  best  will  most  deeply  feel  with  me,  that, 
if  his  death  was  the  consequence  of  his  fidelity  to  his 
work,  it  was  like  him  not  to  hesitate  for  one  instant  in 
facing  such  a consequence. 

Yet  how  could  he  have  done  so,  had  he  not  been,  most 
of  all,  a man  of  prayer?  It  was  on  his  knees  that  he 
found  strength  for  the  labors  of  his  ministry,  and  courage 
in  the  face  of  its  discouragements.  I have  been  permitted 
to  possess  myself  of  an  extract  from  his  private  note- 
book, which  illustrates  this  so  strikingly  that  I ask  your 
permission  to  read  it.  It  is  a prayer  penned  on  the 
threshold  of  a day  of  ministerial  labor,  and  conceived 
and  uttered  in  a spirit  of  such  pathetic  simplicity  and 
fervor,  as  makes  it  a genuine  model : 

“ God  grant  me  the  power  to  do  to-day’s  work  with  a 
bright  and  cheerful  heart,  to  think  that  I can  do  some- 
thing for  His  praise  and  glory ; and  more  than  all,  may 
He  bestow  upon  me  the  strength  to  teach  and  preach  the 
law  of  His  most  blessed  and  holy  will,  that  the  words  of 
truth  eternal  and  able  to  save  the  world,  may  never  be 
spoken  by  me  in  vain,  but  that  they  find  an  entrance  into 
some  heart,  and  cause  to  spring  forth  in  its  prepared  soil 
the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness.” 

It  was  impossible  that  such  a ministry,  so  deep  in  a 
temper  of  unsparing  self-sacrifice  and  habitual  devotion, 
should  have  failed  to  make  itself  felt,  and  we  stand  here 
this  evening,  sadly  yet  thankfully  conjecturing  what  it 
would  so  surely  have  accomplished  had  God  vouchsafed 
to  it  a longer  day  and  a less  narrow  opportunity. 

Yet  brief  as  it  has  been,  it  is  not  without  its  lesson  to 


M 


us  who  remain.  It  reminds  us  that  it  is  not  conspicuous 
place  or  length  of  days  that  we  need,  in  order  to  do  sub- 
stantial work  for  Christ  and  His  Church,  but  rather  a 
willling  and  upward  - looking  heart  and  a single  and  un- 
swerving purpose.  For  these,  as  for  every  other  excel- 
lency in  his  brief  but  well-rounded  career,  let  us  thank 
God,  as  we  call  to  mind  the  “ good  example  ” of  our  now 
departed  Brother,  of  whom  a voice  from  heaven  anew 
bids  with  joyous  confidence  to  write  : 

“ Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord  : 

EVEN  SO  SAITH  THE  SPIRIT,  FOR  THEY  REST  FROM 
THEIR  LABORS.’’ 


SERMON 


BY  THE 

REV.  HENRY  DUYCKINCK. 


“ The  rich  and  poor  meet  together.” — Proverbs,  xxii.  2. 

The  rich  and  poor  meet  together — and  each  of  these 
contraries  needs  the  other’s  care  and  willing  help.  For 
many  things,  the  rich  must  look  towards  the  poor  man’s 
strong  hand  of  labor ; and,  when  he  needs  the  daily  bread 
of  life, — and  when  is  the  time  that  he  does  not  need  it, — 
the  poor  child  of  God  who  has  nothing  must  draw  near 
to  him  who  hath,  to  seek  and  ask.  It  is  the  poor  man’s 
toil  that  builds  the  rich  man’s  house ; it  is  the  rich  man’s 
wealth  that  provides  this  diligent  minister  to  his  necessity 
with  the  present  power  to  procure  some  narrow  room  of 
rest  for  the  night — an  inn  and  passing  shelter — for  a much 
needed  repose.  All  wait  upon  each  other ; the  clerk  upon 
the  merchant : the  porter  who  bows  his  shoulder  to  bear 
hath  released  the  master,  who  hives  his  thousands,  of  no 
light  and  easy  yoke.  And,  what  could  the  State  do  for 
the  support  of  the  law,  if  it  had  not  the  humble  officers 
who  were  obedient  unto  it  ? And,  how  would  the  present 
strength  of  national  power  be  preserved,  if  there  were  not 
soldiers — men  of  no  reputation,  called  from  the  host  of 
Man,  who  were  trained  to  act  in  its  defence  ? It  is  the 


poor  man’s  hand  that  kneads  the  bread  of  daily  life.  It  is 
the  poor  man’s  obedient  industry  that  clothes  the  body’s 
nakedness  with  the  raiment  of  our  weakness  and  need. 
And,  are  not  the  servants  who  wait  upon  pleasure  God’s 
poor  men  ? And,  go  where  we  may,  we  must  meet  to- 
gether. At  the  rich  man’s  door  is  laid  the  beggar ; at 
the  roadside  of  the  crowded  city  sits  blind  Bartimeus. 
And  near  us,  as  in  our  thronged  streets  the  hearse  of  the 
dead  jostles  the  carriage  of  the  living  citizen — thinking, 
“ good  easy  man,”  of  many  days — near  us,  are  the  multi- 
tude of  the  halt,  and  lame,  and  sick,  with  the  body  and  soul’s 
infirmities,  who  are  sent  to  meet  us  by  Him  who  is  both 
the  poor  and  rich  man’s  Lord  and  friend  and  elder  broth- 
er. And  here,  in  this  house  of  prayer  and  praise,  where 
all  meet  together,  all  are  equal — for  unto  the  poor  as  to 
the  rich  was  the  Gospel  preached.  He  who  received 
Zaccheus,  did  he  not  also  accept  the  faith  of  a penitent 
thief,  and  call  to  his  heavenly  feast  all  these  his  poor  chil- 
dren, who,  like  Himself,  had  not  where  to  lay  their  heads  ? 
Know  that  the  two  are  one  for  ever.  The  poor  man’s 
confession  to  the  messenger  of  God  bears  witness  to  the 
power  of  Christ,  the  resurrection  and  the  life.  The  widow 
with  her  two  mites  can  open  the  door  of  Paradise  as  well 
as  the  good  and  faithful  servant  whose  ten  increased  tal- 
ents have  won  the  favor  of  his  Lord — to  be  without  whose 
presence  is  to  find  hell  indeed.  And  all  die  and  descend 
to  the  grave  together.  All  can  say  Our  Father.  All 
need  to  ask  for  mercy — and  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  that 
moveth  within  every  heart  is  that  they  are  unworthy  serv- 
ants, who  can  do  nothing  at  all. 

Now  I have  said  that  each  requires  the  help  of  each. 


l7 


The  rich  man  left  alone,  and  having  all  things,  may  well  be 
troubled  for  the  misery  that  is  come  upon  him.  There- 
fore he  ought  to  love  and  cherish  this  brother  whom  God 
hath  given  him.  The  work  of  charity  is  a part  of  his  duty 
to  his  God.  The  command  of  Heaven’s  high  law  is,  Let 
the  strong  bear  the  infirmities  of  the  weak ; and  ye  are  the 
strong  ; and  when  ye  shut  your  ears  to  the  cry  of  misery, 
and  have  no  wish  to  give  to  him  who  asketh  you,  how 
dwelleth  the  love  of  God  in  you  ? For,  lo  ! at  your  door 
is  laid  the  weary,  wounded  Christ — and  he  who  hath  not, 
who  knows  not  to-day  how  he  is  to  satisfy  to-morrow’s 
want,  is  the  true  son  of  Him  who  was  born  in  a manger 
and  died  in  all  humility,  and  forgotten  of  all  His  faithless 
world.  Ye  have  no  right  to  refuse  your  brother’s  prayer. 
God  owns  everything.  The  talents  are  lent,  not  given. 
The  treasure  is  to  be  used  in  works  of  charity — not  for 
your  own  work  of  selfishness,  which  is  self-destruction. 
But  we  cannot  think  that  you  will  forsake  this  work  which 
brings  heaven  to  earth.  For  what  is  the  work  which  we 
ask  you  to  do  ? It  is  a work  of  reform  and  progress,  and 
the  evil  subdued  by  the  good.  For  a mission  ought — I 
speak  to  you  of  your  own  work,  the  Mission  Chapel  of 
St.  Mark’s — to  be  a chief  agent  of  reform.  The  laws  that 
are  taught  in  that  school  of  charity  are  the  laws  that  help 
to  maintain  constant  health  both  of  soul  and  body.  Its 
teachers  bring  the  blessed  rudiments  of  knowledge  to 
those  who  dwell  in  the  evil  darkness  of  that  miserable 
want  which  makes  the  whole  heart  sick,  and  whose 
wretched  influences  destroy  every  wish  to  arise  and  try 
to  do  some  wise  work  that  may  help  to  prepare  the  way 
for  a better  end.  They  are  the  laws  of  quiet  and  order  ; 
3 


1 8 


and  even  they  who  prefer  the  weary  life  of  all  riotous  liv- 
ing, cannot  often  draw  near  that  place  of  a great  calm  on 
earth,  without  being  sometimes  tempted  to  desire  that 
there  may  be  something  of  its  quiet  peace  within  their 
own  hearts  also.  The  words  of  warning  that  are  heard 
in  this  one  place,  at  least — of  honest  speech  for  God’s  sake, 
have  been  as  the  great  light  from  Heaven  to  one  who  has 
gone  astray,  and  have  led  him  to  think  soberly  of  what 
manner  of  man  he  was.  The  visit  of  the  minister  caused 
some  to  remember  that  there  is  an  interest  which  is  eter- 
nal ; and  whether  they  bade  him  welcome  in  their  hearts 
or  not,  how  could  they  forget,  while  he  talked  with  them 
that  his  cause  was  not  of  this  world  ? And  is  it  not  well 
for  them  to  feel  this  fact  ? And  as  he  talked  to  them  of 
the  order  of  daily  life,  akin  to  godliness,  they  could  not 
refuse  to  hear  him  : and  knowing  that  they  needed  to 
overcome  their  indifference  to  it,  they  could  not  resist 
a natural  tendency  to  be  ashamed  of  that  indifference, 
and  their  shame  wrought  wonderfully  in  the  work  of 
that  reform.  And  the  children  whom  they  sent  to  the 
day-school,  an  essential  part  of  every  well  furnished  mis- 
sion, as  they  learnt  the  same  lessons,  which  taught 
them  how  to  escape  another’s  failures,  the  day’s  task 
had  this  advantage  at  least,  to  prevent  the  reign  of  bois- 
terous mischief,  which  most  hearty  children  love.  They 
were  taught  daily  how  to  pray  and  praise  and  sing ; 
and  in  some  little  history  they  read  of  the  world’s  coun- 
tries— what  their  names  and  features  were.  And  they 
were  told  also  of  the  worlds  of  light — how  dark  to  us — 
which  lie  all  around  us.  And  were  they  not  instructed 
in  some  simple  matters  of  daily  use  ; and  found  they  not 


19 

a motive  for  at  least  a few  hours’  work  ? And  when  the 
Sunday  came,  came  there  not  trained  teachers  also,  who 
told  them  of  the  Christian  virtues  and  of  the  Children’s 
Friend  in  heaven,  and  of  the  promise  of  His  regard? 
And  though  there  were  not  a few  young  idle  hearts  that 
thought  much  of  play  and  very  little  of  these  things  now, 
did  not  Faith  teach  us  to  believe  that  the  time  would 
come  when  some  word  eternal  would  be  remembered, 
and  that  the  day  would  be  when  the  now  uncared  for  les- 
son might  be  cherished  as  the  constant  rule  of  life.  Some 
who  “ came  to  scoff  remained  to  pray.”  The  good  pas- 
tor’s continual  entreaty  caused  them  to  grow  weary  of 
that  wretched  indifference  which  oppressed  them  with 
many  sorrows.  Bade  to  look  up  and  not  die,  they  learnt 
to  rejoice  in  the  message  that  they  were  the  sons  of  God. 
And  then  the  drunkard — we  tell  you  of  facts  which  we 
know — began  to  despise  himself,  and  was  led  like  a child 
by  the  voice  of  reason  ; and  he  repented  of  his  submission 
to  misery ; and,  as  he  thought,  he  came  unto  himself  and 
the  rending  devils  were  cast  forth  from  him.  And  he 
who  lived  with  a coarse  company,  whose  daily  communi- 
cations were  altogether  evil,  was  led  at  last  to  hear  this 
reformer  preach  and  to  accept  his  doctrine,  and  in  word 
and  life  to  prove  himself  not  unworthy  of  it.  And  it  is 
this  work  of  trying  to  save  some,  which  we  call  a work  of 
progress  towards  good.  A firm  Christian  means  a good 
citizen.  And  all  true  Missions  strive  to  make  good  serv- 
ants of  the  Divine  Master’s  service,  who  are  devoted  serv- 
ants also  of  this  world’s  just  powers  that  be.  The  main- 
tenance of  this  Mission  means  the  support  of  tried  virtues, 
whose  value  they  who  believe  in  no  creed  at  all  will  admit 


20 


in  homes  of  desolation,  where  the  worst  of  the  vices  are 
held  in  notorious  preference.  The  neglect  of  the  work  of 
this  Mission  is  the  neglect  of  yourselves ; for,  if  you  do 
not  have  pity  upon  the  poor,  the  time  will  come  when 
they  will  exact  the  uttermost  farthing  in  the  way  of  ven- 
geance from  you.  Allow  them  to  remain  in  uncared  for 
ignorance  of  the  moral  law,  which  even  the  unjust  who 
fear  not  God  have  some  reverence  for  as  a near  protection 
to  themselves,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before  the  time  shall 
come  when  you  shall  know  what  the  works  of  darkness 
are.  Pass  by  on  the  other  side,  and  the  secret  thief  will 
not  pass  by  you ; for  in  the  night  he  will  break  through 
and  steal.  Forget  the  law  of  Charity,  and  many  will  for- 
get the  terror  of  the  law  of  Force.  Suffer  sin  to  reign, 
and  do  nothing  but  indulge  in  some  cold  rhetoric  about 
the  increase  of  crime,  and  you  will  find  that  you  are  doing 
everything  that  you  can  do  to  destroy  all  your  future 
means  of  safety.  Cleave  ye  to  this  cause,  for  it  is  the 
cause  of  that  Truth  that  hateth  a lie;  and  by  a lie  hath 
the  sin  of  mad  rebellion  often  come.  Pay  the  tax  you 
owe  to  God  with  a willing  heart ; for  it  is  the  way  to  dis- 
charge the  debt  whose  perfect  payment  can  make  us  free 
indeed.  Encourage  the  weak,  or,  when  they  fail,  they  shall 
drag  your  souls  also — halt  in  purpose — to  the  last  misery 
of  a common  death. 

If  there  is  woe  upon  us  if  we  preach  not  the  Gospel,  do 
you  not  think  that  there  is  also  a woe  upon  you  if  you 
will  not  be  well  content  to  do  that  Gospel’s  work,  which 
is  the  work  of  love  ? With  what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall 
be  measured  to  you  again.  Shall  One  who  hath  loved  us 
have  compassion  on  the  multitude,  who  were  so  far  re- 


21 


moved  from  him  by  sin’s  dividing  gulf,  and  shall  we 
depart  from  them  when  they  are  our  brethren  in  life  and 
death  and  an  eternal  future?  It  will  not  do  for  us  to 
stand  apart.  There  is  a sacred  union  formed  by  the  will 
of  Him  who  dwells  in  heaven  that  cannot  be  broken. 
And  as  we  meet  together — rich  and  poor — we  ought  to 
work  together.  And  that  work  is  the  work  of  Christ. 
When  we  give  to  this  cause,  whose  past  record  we  so 
well  know,  we  do  the  work  of  Him  who  went  about  doing 
good.  For  when  the  poor  came  to  Him,  he  fed  their  souls 
and  bodies  with  the  world’s  food  and  heaven’s.  Fie  gave 
to  him  that  asked ; health  to  the  sick ; the  good  sound 
mind  to  him  who  sought  in  vain  his  banished  reason 
among  dead  men’s  tombs ; peace  to  her  who  asked  for 
nothing  and  received  every  thing.  And  how  can  we  who 
name  the  name  of  Love  not  go  and  do  likewise?  Think 
of  what  poverty  in  its  simple  suffering  is,  and  lay  the 
mammon  and  the  dust  of  the  earth  at  your  Saviour’s  feet, 
and  by  the  alchemy  of  love  you  shall  find  it  changed  to 
the  celestial  city’s  gold.  Ascend  in  love,  in  desire  if  not 
in  fact,  the  dark  and  narrow  stairs  of  want,  and  prove  that 
there  are  some  angels  of  mercy  in  the  world ; that  there 
are  some  joyful  to  give  indeed.  Shall  we  hear  the  para- 
ble of  the  Prodigal  and  have  no  wish  to  help  his  true 
descendants,  who  are  still  with  us,  to  find  the  house  he 
sought  and  the  Father’s  presence  and  the  Feast  that  is 
always  ready?  Shall  we  hear  of  one  who  fell  among 
thieves,  and  still  continue  to  show  no  mercy  to  the  sick 
and  wounded  travellers  who  are  now  laid  at  our  doors  ? 
Shall  we  be  reminded  of  the  rich  man  who  cared  not  for 
his  brother  who  had  need,  and  ourselves  refuse  to  see  that 


22 


brother,  but  turn  our  hearts  from  him  and  evil  entreat 
him  by  our  strange  neglect?  Bar  to  the  door  if  you 
will,  and  mercy  will  pass  by  and  will  not  trouble  you. 
Say,  “ charity  begins  at  home,”  and  be  all  kind  consider- 
ation to  yourself ; the  poor  who  are  always  with  you  will 
die,  and  you  will  know  not  of  it  now.  Refuse  to  see  what 
we  see — it  is  most  easy — you  live  in  a different  world, 
wherein  is  the  resemblance  between  one  and  many — a 
room  for  a home  and  a house  for  a home — a revenue  of 
some  penny  a day  and  income  of  some  hundreds.  Think 
of  the  toil  from  morning  until  night  in  the  work  of  the 
dull,  plodding  labor  that  does  not  inform  the  heart ; of 
those  “ who  walk  on  the  Alpine  paths  of  life,  against  driv- 
ing misery,  and  through  stormy  sorrows,  and  over  sharp 
afflictions — walk  with  bare  feet  and  naked  breast,  jaded, 
mangled,  and  chilled  of  the  evil  infirmities  of  men — and 
who  can  tell  how  often  they  fall  by  the  way  ? — and  some- 
times they  are  left  for  dead  by  their  passion’s  violence — 
and  sometimes  it  is  want’s  “ unconquerable  bar”  that  has 
led  them  to  turn  towards  a path  from  which  there  is  no 
gate  of  exit  to  the  honest  road  to  another  and  better  life. 
Now  brought  into  subjection  to  the  law  of  circumstances, 
they  toil  all  the  day  long  to  receive  the  reward,  the  anx- 
ious burden  of  a self-provided  misery ; though  without 
riches,  falling  into  temptation  and  a snare ; finding  the 
gate  of  heaven  as  the  needle’s  eye,  though  in  the  quick 
thought  of  a minute  they  could  take  count  of  all  they 
possess.  Think  in  love  of  the  poverty  of  body  and  mind 
of  a great  city — the  vice  most  sensual  and  devilish,  that  is 
as  the  presence  of  the  miserable  pestilence — whose  woe  is 
the  second  death.  We  say,  regard  with  honest  sympathy 


the  poor  man’s  day  ; so  that  you  may  see  the  days  of 
heaven,  which  are  days  of  sympathy  and  tender  love. 

And  this  work,  which  is  “ all  for  love,”  must  be  your 
work.  No  common  difference  of  opinion  should  turn  our 
hearts  away  from  this  good  cause.  Are  we  the  advocates 
of  reason  and  not  of  faith  ? Do  we  not  still  need  to  help 
the  work  of  these  virtues  which  we  know  to  be  the  friends 
of  every  man,  and  the  “ cheap  defence  of  nations  ?”  Is 
our  creed  the  generous  belief  that  “ good  shall  be  the  final 
goal  of  ill  ?”  Then  let  us  desire  to  aid  and  further  the  pres- 
ent good  of  those  whom  we  call  our  brethren.  And  if  we 
are  the  firm  adherents  of  the  letter  and  spirit  of  that  sacred 
Word,  and  believe  the  poor  and  homeless  to  be  the  Lord’s 
disciples,  then  let  us  do  His  will  and  feed  the  souls  of  the 
hungry  overcome  with  infirmities.  All  ought  to  bid  this 
cause  welcome.  Who  can  have  any  prejudice  against 
this  work  of  reform  ? Who  can  think  that  there  is  enough 
of  virtue  among  men  ? Who  can  feel  in  his  heart  that  the 
poor  have  no  need  of  any  kind  friend  who  by  word  and 
act  can  be  their  comforter  ? 

This  is  no  romantic  crusade  of  charity.  Here  is  the 
land  of  promise  that  we  have  known  from  our  childhood  ; 
and  when  we  tell  you  of  an  urgent  need,  the  experiences 
of  every  day  confirm  the  painful  fact.  The  poor  we  ask 
you  to  help  are  daily  very  near  and  all  around  you,  and 
the  history  of  our  work  is  our  best  sermon.  We  ap- 
peal to  you  in  the  name  of  Him  whose  life,  whose  death 
was  the  work  of  charity  for  us,  for  a mission  which  we 
trust  has  always  been  most  dear  unto  you ; and  we  ask 
for  help  with  a firm  confidence,  because  we  know  that 
work  is  well  worthy  to  meet  the  most  searching  scrutiny 


of  any  eye  of  friend  or  foe.  As  a general  rule,  large  con- 
gregations, both  morning  and  evening,  show  the  sincere 
interest  which  our  people  themselves  have  learnt  to  take 
in  this  work.  Our  Sunday  and  Parish  schools,  always 
well  attended,  are  proofs  sufficient  of  the  devotion  and 
intelligent  energy  of  our  Superintendent  and  our  assist- 
ant teachers.  The  many  mothers  who  have  every  Wed- 
nesday evening  attended  our  Mothers’  meetings,  afford 
the  best  evidence  that  it  is  one  of  our  favorite  institutions. 
Our  communions  have  always  been  fairly  attended ; our 
alms  wisely  and  carefully  distributed.  We  are  not  bur- 
dened with  any  fetters  of  unsettled  debt.  Our  school  and 
chapel  collections,  if  not  very  large,  have  been  sufficient 
for  at  least  a portion  of  the  weekly  expenses.  All  our 
sick  who  needed  relief  have  been  well  provided  for. 
Whenever  any  case  of  real  distress  has  called  for  our  help, 
we  have  been  as  liberal  as  our  means  would  allow.  In 
brief,  we  have  done  all  that  we  could  do.  And  therefore, 
in  the  calm  trust  that  you  will  approve  our  work,  we  ask 
you  to  come  and  help  us,  and  when  you  help  us,  you  help 
yourselves  in  this  work  of  charity ; for  unto  Christ  ye  do 
it,  and  He  can  give  you  heaven. 

Let  the  rich  and  poor  meet  together,  for  do  not  the  one 
need  the  other?  And  let  them  come  and  be  as  brethren, 
for  have  they  not  One  Lord,  One  Faith,  One  Baptism? 
And  let  them  love  one  another  in  the  spirit  honestly  ; for 
shall  they  not  both  sleep  in  the  same  kingdom  of  the  grave 
together?  And  let  them  be  tender  hearted,  forgiving  one 
another  ; for  all  must  bear  one  cross,  even  the  cross  of  the 
poor  in  spirit ; and  all  who  would  have  the  treasure  of 
heaven,  must  humble  themselves  of  this  world’s  proud 


25 


spirit — whose  foundation  is  dust  and  ashes.  And  all  who 
would  come  to  Him,  who  was  a poor  man  and  a wanderer 
in  this  his  mortal  kingdom,  must  be  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart,  counting  it  all  joy  to  feed  his  lambs,  to  feed  his 
sheep. 


4 


SERMON 


BY  THE 

Rev.  EDWARD  H.  KRANS, 

RECTOR  Or  THE  CHURCH  OP  THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD, 
BOSTON. 


PREACHED  BY  REQUEST  AT  ST.  MARK’S  MISSION  CHAPEL, 
SUNDAY  MORNING,  FEB.  27,  1870. 


SERMON. 


“ Well  done  thou  good  and  faithful  servant;  ....  enter  thou  into 
the  joy  of  thy  Lord.” — St.  Matt.  xxv.  v.  21. 

This,  my  brethren,  is  the  language  of  approval ; nay, 
of  reward.  You  will  recognize  it  as  from  the  Parable  of 
the  Talents.  And  yet  it  is  not  very  much.  The  language 
is  very  tame.  The  colors  in  which  the  object,  wherewith 
faithful  and  persevering  toil  is  to  be  requited,  are  very 
subdued ; not  at  all  striking  to  the  eye ; much  less  is  there 
anything  about  it  to  kindle  the  soul  into  action  ; to  fill  it, 
so  to  speak,  with  rapture  ; to  fire  it  with  a high  ambition. 
It  is  not  tangible  either.  It  is  not  near.  It  is  not  to  have 
place  in  time,  even.  Very  indefinite  altogether.  A sim- 
ple, “ well  done,”  and  a welcome  entrance  into  a remote, 
unfolded  joy. 

The  world,  at  least,  will  not  mock  her  servants,  by  of- 
fering for  their  toilsome  services  a phantom,  or  a shadow 
such  as  this.  No.  She  will  offer  nothing  but  that  she 
can  give,  and  in  hand,  too.  She  must  go,  therefore,  else- 
where than  to  the  uninviting  treasure-house  of  the  Para- 
ble of  the  Talents  for  her  many  prizes.  And  she  does  go 
elsewhere.  The  whole  earth  she  proudly  claims  as  her  store- 
house in  this  respect.  And  she  ransacks  her  every  apart- 


3° 


ment.  She  quarries  into  the  mountain  side  for  the  richest 
material,  and  summons  the  highest  skill  to  fashion  it  for 
her  use,  and  commands  the  public  hall,  or  the  square,  or 
the  city  of  the  dead  to  hold  it  in  solemn  trust.  She  calls 
the  biographer  to  rehearse  the  worthy  deeds  of  her  de- 
serving children  ; and  she  bids  the  poet  clothe  them  in 
his  immortal  song.  The  orator  stands  ready,  and  at  her 
nod  he  ascends  the  rostrum,  and  exhausts  the  vocabulary, 
that  nothing  may  remain  unsaid  which  shall  tend  to  per- 
petuate the  memory  of  the  departed.  A universal  press  is 
at  hand  to  disseminate  his  fame  to  the  distant  parts.  A net- 
work of  telegraph-wires  catches  up  and  speeds  the  story. 
A nation,  or  a world,  it  may  be,  are  willing  to  keep  holi- 
day, and  contribute  their  united  applause  to  make  up  a 
fitting  reward  for  the  good  and  faithful  servant,  who  has 
toiled  and  borne  and  gone,  leaving  behind  him  “ foot- 
prints on  the  sands  of  time.”  Nay,  she  may  call  upon  the 
queen  of  her  earth-encircling  empire,  and  the  chief  of  her 
great  republic,  to  send  forth  their  grandest  ocean  war- 
chariots  to  convoy  in  slow  and  solemn  march  across  the 
ocean -wave  the  dust  of  her  sleeping  son,  and  charge 
their  representatives  to  follow  the  bier  all  the  way  to  the 
tomb.  The  walls  of  her  many  temples  are  always  ready 
to  receive  the  names  of  such  as  shall  earn  a place  there. 

Such,  my  brethren,  as  you  know,  are  the  rewards  which 
the  world  we  so  love  offers,  holds  out  to  us,  whose  enemy 
she  so  often  is. 

And  I am  neither  here  to  disparage  nor  to  censure 
them.  The  rather,  we  may  join  her,  so  far  as  to  commend, 
and  heartily,  too,  any  one  who  lives  and  labors  for  the 
advancement  of  what  is  high  and  noble  and  good,  all 


31 


which  tends  to  the  amelioration  of  our  erring  race,  the 
uplifting  of  it,  in  any  degree,  from  the  mire  into  which  it 
fell,  and  where  so  large  a portion  of  it  lies  helpless  and 
almost  hopeless  this  day  ! 

But,  I am  to  say,  while  standing,  as  it  were,  over  the 
grave  of  my  young  friend,  that  all  this  is  the  world’s  ap- 
probation, after  all ; is  of  the  earth,  earthly.  I am  to  main- 
tain (the  chapter  from  which  my  text  is  taken  compels 
me  to  do  it)  that  all  this  shall  avail  the  subject  as  little  as 
the  doleful  wind  that  sighs  around  his  tomb.  I am  to  re- 
mind you,  Christian  men  and  women,  that  the  monument 
is  to  moulder  on  the  public  square  and  in  the  burial  en- 
closure ; and  that  the  hall-floor  is  to  decay  beneath  it ; 
and  that  the  biographer’s  carefully  prepared  narrative  is 
to  be  lost ; and  that  the  poet’s  song  is  to  be  unsung  ; and 
that  the  orator’s  fine  periods  are  to  be  unadmired,  and  his 
rich  praise  forgotten  ; and  that  the  pens  of  writers  are  to 
be  laid  aside  ; and  that  the  wheels  of  the  press  are  to 
cease  to  move  ; and  that  empires  and  republics  are  to  lie 
down,  side  by  side,  in  the  dust ; and  that  the  applause  of 
the  multitude  of  men  is  some  time  to  be  no  more  heard 
on  earth  ; and  that  the  shining  temples  are  to  grow  dim, 
and  finally  fall,  burying,  amid  their  ruins,  all  that  remained 
of  the  bright  rewards  which,  as  I have  said,  call  forth  so 
mftch  devotion  and  attachment  from  the  sons  of  men.  I 
am  to  say,  that  after  all  this  change,  decay,  ruin,  the  sim- 
ple, tame  words  of  my  text  shall  still  abide,  and  point  the 
disciple  of  the  cross  on  and  beyond  all  change  and  deso- 
lation to  the  great  joy,  of  which  so  little  is  said,  and  of 
which  so  little  can  adequately  be  said,  even  the  joy  of  his 
Lord.  I am  to  claim,  therefore,  that  this  is  the  only  re- 


32 


ward  worthy  of  the  highest  aim  of  soul-endowed  man.  I 
need  not  recall  to  your  fresh  remembrance  that  this  is  all 
the  reward  held  out  to  the  follower  of  Christ,  as  such — 
the  joy  of  his  Lord,  and  this  fully,  only  as  seen  through 
temptations,  at  the  end  of  a long  path  of  watchfulness 
and  patient  self-denial ; faint  now,  it  may  be,  but  growing 
stronger,  as  he  grows  in  grace  and  in  nearness  to  Him, 
brightening  as  it  grows  more  distant,  until  when,  in  the 
future,  he  shall  meet  Him  face  to  face,  it  shall  become 
pure  and  perfect  and  full. 

Here,  then,  we  behold  a great  radical  difference  between 
the  rewards  of  this  world  and  those  of  our  beloved  Lord. 
The  former  are  of  the  present ; dazzling,  but  fading  as  time 
advances.  The  latter  are  future  ; not  impressively  attrac- 
tive now,  but  growing  more  so,  as  the  years  go  by.  The 
one  is,  in  short,  manhood  on  the  verge  of  old  age,  and 
hastening  to  the  grave.  The  other  is  healthy  infancy, 
advancing  towards  a vigorous  and  noble  manhood, 
to  which  no  old  age,  no  decrepitude,  no  death,  is  ap- 
pointed. 

If  this,  then,  be  granted,  (and,  if  not,  the  controversy  is 
with  Ho!y  Scripture,  and  not  with  the  preacher ;)  how  is 
this  “ well  done  ” to  be  earned,  this  joy  to  be  secured  ? 
The  author  of  the  text  gives  a superlative  answer  to  the 
question.  You  remember  it  is  from  the  Parable  of  the 
Talents.  And  you  are  familiar  with  the  evident  exposi- 
tion of  the  parable.  It  is  awarded  to  the  servant  who, 
devoting  such  gifts,  whether  of  nature  or  of  grace,  as  may 
be  lent  him,  to  the  service  of  his  master  or  “ Lord,”  as  in  the 
parable,  makes  a faithful  use  of  them.  “ Christ  is  the  Lord 
the  gifts  are  the  talents,  and  a faithful  use  of  them  in  His 


service,  observe,  the  condition  of  the  reward.  Behold, 
then,  the  sum  of  the  matter  ! 

For  this  simple  prize,  my  brethren,  which  the  world 
contemns,  multitudes,  of  whom  she  was  not  worthy,  have 
been  content  to  live,  and  to  hope,  and  to  die.  Moses 
aimed  at  naught  higher  than  this.  The  pomp  and  trap- 
pings of  the  world  did  not  follow  him  to  any  monument- 
capped  tomb.  “ So  Moses,  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  died 
there,  in  the  land  of  Moab.”  “ And  no  man  knoweth  of  his 
sepulchre  to  this  day.”  It  satisfied  Abraham  and  the  pa- 
triarchs ; David  and  Solomon.  It  was  all  to  which  the 
tenants  of  the  caves  of  the  earth — I mean  God’s  prophets 
— looked.  This  it  was  that  lightened  up  Herod’s  dun- 
geon for  the  Baptist,  as  he  awaited  the  execution  of  the 
capricious  sentence  of  the  Jewish  king,  as  we  heard  in  the 
second  lesson  for  this  morning.*  It  would  have  been  a 
wretched  cell  for  one  whose  richest  source  of  joy  was  a 
birthday  party  assembled  in  a dancing  hall,  but  was  a 
very  comfortable  halting- place  for  the  weary  pilgrim, 
who,  at  length  near  his  journey’s  end,  was  almost  in  full 
view  of  his  home,  where  the  joy  of  his  Lord  was  to  be 
his  own.  And  the  whole  apostolic  band,  the  noble  army 
of  martyrs  and  confessors,  you  know  how  they  strug- 
gled, each  against  temptations ; against  Satan,  in  what- 
ever form  his  opposition  assumed  ; against  their  own 
weaknesses  and  sinful  tendencies  ; rejoicing  still;  and  rejoic- 
ing because  of  this  joy,  which  some  time  they  believed — 
would  that  our  faith  in  it  were  half  so  present  and  real — 
should  be  full ; looking  for  no  earthly  reward,  and  going, 


5 


* Quinquagesima  Sunday. 


« 


34 

yes,  and  their  Lord  with  them,  to  whatever  earthly  end 
was  appointed  them  ; the  rack,  the  block,  or  the  cross. 

And  the  same  work,  the  same  struggle  goes  on  to-day. 
The  same  path,  in  this  respect,  in  which  St.  Paul  and  St. 
John  followed,  and  which  has  been  trodden  and  worn  by 
an  unbroken  line  of  saints,  comprising  all  ages  and  nations 
and  climes  and  degrees,  is  not  grass  grown  now.  With 
all  our  boast  of  modern  inventions,  no  new  path  to  heaven 
has  been  discovered.  And,  as  I have  said,  the  old  one  is 
not  abandoned.  Look  out  upon  it ! See  the  world-sick 
and  Saviour-loving  train  as  they  go.  They  are  not  turn- 
ing aside  to  write  their  names  upon  the  fleeting  objects 
along  the  pathway.  They  are  not  seeking  the  applause 
of  men.  Behold  ! how  their  attention  is  engrossed  by 
something  which  lies  straight  before  them.  Would  you 
know,  oh  ! vain  and  wordly  man,  what  this  is  ? From  the 
text  the  answer  comes — “ The  joy  of  their  Lord.” 

From  a humble  treading  of  this  path,  to  the  fair  Paradise 
to  which  it  leads,  I humbly,  but  very  hopefully  believe,  our 
common  Lord  has  summoned  his  servant,  your  late  pastor 
and  servant  for  Christ’s  sake,  and  my  lamented  friend.  The 
avenues  to  wealth  and  place-  and  honor  were  open  before 
him.  The  world’s  prizes  all  glittered  with  their  wonted 
brightness.  He  might  have  contended,  and  successfully, 
too,  for  them.  He  was  a young  boy,  too,  once,  with  a 
boy’s  aspirations,  a boy’s  ambition,  a boy’s  too  bright  an- 
ticipations of  the  temporal  future  and  his  own  mark  in 
and  upon  it.  He  saw  these  avenues  thronged  with  his 
equals  in  age  ; these  prizes  grasped  at,  toiled  for  by  those 
who  had  been  the  companions  of  his  boyish  play-hours, 
and  the  sharers  of  the  more  staid  recreations  of  his  youth. 


He  had,  thus,  seen  much  ; there  had  been  much,  as  there 
is  anywhere  in  our  country,  and  always  in  this  great  city, 
to  tempt  him  to  join  the  thick  ranks  of  those  who  strive 
for  eminence  in  commerce,  in  medicine,  or  the  law.  But 
this  does  not  decide  him.  He  knows  the  story  connected 
with  Emmanuel’s  name.  He  knew  how  the  immaculate 
Son  of  our  great  Father  in  heaven  left  throne,  glory,  Fa- 
ther, all — behind  Him,  and  came  down,  in  the  centuries 
gone  by,  to  ransom,  by  no  less  cost  than  His  own  preci- 
ous blood,  our  guilty  race.  He  knew  His  almost  dying 
wish,  embodied  in  His  injunction  to  His  apostles  : “ Go 
ye,  go  ye,  into  all  the  world  and  preach  the  Gospel  to 
every  creature.”  He  knew,  as  you  know,  my  brethren, 
how  thousands,  nay,  entire  tribes,  nations,  almost  conti- 
nents, are,  notwithstanding  this  yearning  wish,  going,  each 
passing  generation,  to  await  the  judgment,  unwashed  in 
this  sin-cleansing  blood.  He  early  felt,  in  short,  that  this 
gift  of  salvation  through  faith  in  the  atoning  merits  of  the 
Saviour’s  blood,  was  the  only  true,  real  prize  after  ail,  and 
among  all,  for  the  soul-sick  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  hu- 
man family ; and  having  made  it  his  own,  resolved  to 
offer  himself  as  a humble  instrument  to  the  Master,  to 
be  used  by  Him  for  securing  this  rich  boon  for  others; 
consecrating  his  life  to  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  to  the 
world. 

But  he  who  will  advance  the  cause  of  true  religion  in 
the  nineteenth  century,  as,  indeed,  in  all  the  centuries, 
must  be  fitted,  by  a long  and  slow  process,  for  the  work. 
The  university  curriculum  must  prepare  the  mind  for 
grappling  with  any  subjects  ; and  to  this  must  succeed 
the  quiet  of  the  seminary  life,  where  the  future  ambassa- 


dor  may  ponder  and  systematize  the  great  truths  of 
theology  ; and,  interspersed  with  all,  must  be  frequent 
tarryings  on  the  mount ; repeated  ascents  and  descents 
of  the  soul  to  and  fro  between  its  tabernacle  of  clay  and 
the  great  store-house  of  grace  on  high.  So  felt  he  whose 
memory  is  very  fresh  here  to-day,  and  so  he  acted.  After 
completing  the  course  at  our  common  Alma  Mater , his 
work  of  preparation  did  not  flag.  On  he  still  toiled,  and  to 
prepare  himself  the  better  for  the  work.  Since  his  ordina- 
tion to  the  ministry,  all  who  have  known  him  in  this  re- 
gard, have  found  him  ready  to  render  freely  and  willingly 
any  assistance  within  his  power  ; whether  in  the  chancel, 
the  pulpit,  or  elsewhere.  At  my  asking,  intimating,  I 
might  rather  say,  he  has  gladly  left  whatever  duty  he 
may  have  been  engaged  in,  and  gone  with  me  to  the  sick- 
beds of  some  of  you,  to  consecrate  the  emblems  of  dying- 
love,  and  administer  that  Holy  Sacrament  to  your  great 
and  endless  comfort.  And  when,  about  to  leave  you  for 
another  field  of  labor,  I spoke  to  him  with  something  of 
earnestness  of  the  interest  which  I felt  in  you,  and  my 
anxiety  to  have  some  guide  left  behind  me,  better  and 
wiser  than  I had  been,  he  seemed  to  make  the  interest  all 
his  own,  and  I could  feel  when  I said  the  last  “good-bye,” 
that  you  had  a shepherd,  and  one  who  would  feel  a shep- 
herd’s solicitude  in  you. 

Of  his  short  career  since  I am  not  to  speak.  Ye,  breth- 
ren, are  the  judges.  It  is  for  you  to  decide,  so  far  as  any 
on  earth  may,  whether  or  not  he  has  read  and  preached 
the  gospel  to  you ; administered  Christ’s  sacraments ; 
visited  your  sick  ; buried  your  dead ; sympathized  with 
your  sorrow -stricken  ; done  all  according  to  the  number 


37 


of  talents  intrusted  to  him.  None  are  better,  none  so 
well  able  to  judge  of  this  as  you.  You  can  only  judge 
from  what  you  saw.  You  do  not  know,  of  course,  what 
may  have  been  all  the  longing  of  his  heart.  You  are  not 
expected  to  be  able  to  tell  the  number  of  soul -born  peti- 
tions which  may  have  gone  up  from  the  silent  chamber 
for  your  welfare  ; the  earnest  appeals  for  a greater  bless- 
ing upon  your  husbands  and  wives  and  children  ; upon 
your  widows  and  orphans  ; upon  the  officers  and  teach- 
ers and  little  ones  of  the  Sunday-school;  upon  every 
department  of  this  work,  and  every  individual  connected 
with  it.  The  record  is  kept  in  heaven  ; it  may  never, 
now,  be  known  on  earth.  The  tone  of  a letter,  however, 
lately  received  from  him,  and  the  topic  and  burden  of 
which  was  this  work,  as  well  as  the  longing  aspirations 
of  his  sick-bed,  would  lead  me  to  believe  that  all  this  is 
more  than  probable. 

Nor  am  I to  attempt  an  enumeration  of  his  virtues.  It 
were  common -place  to  speak  of  his  warm  affection  for 
the  home  circle  ; his  modest  bearing  towards  all  condi- 
tions and  classes  alike  of  our  poor  humanity ; of  his  sim- 
ple-mindedness, his  utter  absence  of  anything  approach- 
ing pride  or  human  display. 

And  I feel  sure  you  will  not  ask  nor  expect  me  to  search 
for  faults  either.  Alas  ! we  are  all  too  prone  to  this.  Too 
apt  to  wisely  surmise,  and  to  keenly  suspect,  and  to  gravely 
doubt,  and  to  unkindly  criticise.  But  there  is  still  charity 
enough  abroad  to  secure  an  amnesty  for  this  when  the 
subject  has  passed  beyond  its  power  to  affect  or  injure 
him.  A little  more  forbearance.  It  would  be  well,  very 
well  for  us,  if  we  had  a little  more  of  that  which  St.  Paul, 


38 

as  in  the  epistle  for  this  day,*  places  above  faith  and  hope. 
Nor  do  the  ministers  of  Christ  escape  their  due  share  ot 
this.  Perhaps  they  deserve  it,  and  I do  not  appear  as 
their  apologist.  It  may  be  that  their  doubted  integrity  is 
a mockery  ; that  their  impugned  sincerity  is  impure  ; that 
worldly  inclinations  and  worldliness  are  rightly  charged 
upon  them  ; that  their  censured  negligence  calls  for  blame  ; 
that  their  lack  of  devotion  to  their  work  needs  the  spur 
of  harsh  criticism.  Grant  all  this  ; that  they  are  but  man  ; 
weak  and  sinful.  What  then  ? There  is  no  merit  in  their 
shortcomings  or  sins  to  atone  for  ours.  And  I appeal  to 
you,  would  it  not  be  better,  much  better  for  all  concerned, 
if  we  could  have  a little  more  kindness,  more  willingness 
to  overlook  than  scrutinize  defects  ? No.  His  failings, 
if  any  he  had,  we  bury  them  deep  down  beneath  the 
burial  sod,  hoping  for,  looking  for  no  resurrection  day 
for  them. 

But,  my  brethren,  I turn  from  speaking  of  the  dead,  to 
speak,  as  friend  with  friends,  to  the  living.  He  is  removed 
out  of  the  sphere  of  temptation  and  of  trial.  Delivered 
from  the  bands  of  mortal  flesh,  his  unbound  spirit  can  no 
longer  be  assailed  by  the  great  foes  of  man.  We  are  still 
among  them.  If  they  have  not  yet  the  mastery, 
there  is  still  time  to  gain  it,  as  there  is  still  time  to  re- 
nounce it,  if  it  be  theirs.  Do  you  not  almost  hear  the 
same  voice  which  summoned  him,  speaking  to  us  and  say 
ing:  “ Hear,  oh  ! my  people?”  We  cannot  afford,  my  breth- 
ren, to  allow  so  evident  an  interposition  of  God’s  provi- 
dence to  pass  without  a serious  study  of  it,  and  a prayer- 
ful effort  to  draw  such  lessons  as  we  may  from  it.  And 

* 1 Cor.  xiii. 


39 


it  has  many  such  lessons  for  all ; family  and  friends  ; old 
and  young  ; stewards  of  Christ ; all  in  this  congregation. 
Standing  on  the  table -land  of  a lusty  manhood,  between 
the  weaknesses  of  youth  and  those  of  age,  where,  hu- 
manly speaking,  he  had  the  strongest  hold  of  life  which 
man  can  have,  and  cut  down  here  in  a few  short  days ; 
what  a commentary  is  it  not  on  the  text : “ All  flesh  is 
grass?”  How  may  we  not  almost  hear  black-robed 
Death  exulting  over  his  prize,  and  see  him  looking  out 
from  his  cheerless  mask,  with  calm  assurance,  upon  the 
legion  of  appointed  victims  who  will  call  for  strokes  much 
less  severe  to  lay  them  low  ! If  the  ripened  strength  of 
the  son  is  so  weak,  what  is  the  waning  vitality  of  the 
father?  If  young  and  sturdy  manhood  is  thus  blighted, 
where  is  the  security  to  tender  womanhood  ? If  the 
strong  muscular  frame  of  maturity  cannot  resist  the 
power  of  disease  to  crush  it,  what  greater  force  can  ten- 
derer years  oppose  ? If  the  mad  thunderbolts,  dashing 
through  the  air,  shatter  the  oak,  what  of  the  lily  ? And 
if  the  shepherd  is  not  secure,  what  of  the  flock  ? In  other 
words,  my  brethren,  if  life  borders  on  death,  almost  means 
death,  and  is  never  for  one  momentabsolutely  secure,  where 
is  anything  but  insecurity  for  any  of  us  ? “In  the  midst 
of  life  we  are  in  death.”  So  would  the  spirits  of  those 
who,  during  any  week,  pass  from  life  to  death  without  a 
moment’s  warning ; so  would  the  spirit  of  him  we  mourn, 
if  they  could  utter  forth  their  voices  to  us  this  morning, 
testify.  Let  us,  then,  realize  more  fully,  in  proportion  as 
the  reality  has  been  brought  nearer  us,  the  slender  hold 
any  of  us  have  upon  this  life  to  which  we  are  wedded  by 
so  strong  ties  of  affection. 


4° 


Some  of  you  may  remember  an  evening,  it  seems  but  a 
few  days  since,  as  this  scene  recalls  it  — a Sunday  even- 
ing — when  from  this  place  I said  what  I thought  might 
possibly  be  the  last  words  I should  utter  in  your  hearing. 
I felt,  as  I may  have  mentioned,  that  the  future  looked  all 
dark  and  uncertain.  It  had  never  seemed  quite  so  dark 
before.  But,  I confess,  it  has  proven  more  uncertain  than 
then  it  seemed.  The  solemn  event  which  brings  me 
among  you  so  soon  again,  I should  have  placed  low  down 
in  a long  list  of  great  uncertainties,  i You  would  no  doubt 
have  done  the  same.  Of  the  group  of  five  young  men  in 
this  chancel,  of  the  congregation  which  filled  this  chapel 
on  that  occasion,  we  should  have  said  that  he  who  called 
down  God’s  benediction  upon  us  was,  as  we  count  proba- 
bilities, the  most  likely  to  live  on  to  a mature  old  age.  The 
future!  It  is  a great  reality  in  itself;  full  of  unenacted 
events  ; of  joys  and  sorrows ; of  blessings  and  of  woes. 
In  its  confines  our  future  lives  and  homes  are  situated. 
The  Judgment  Day  is  within  its  borders.  It  contains 
eternity.  It  is  a wonderful  reality.  And  yet  how  unreal 
to  us  ! We  stalk  through  it  blindfolded,  in  away,  run- 
ning against,  here,  an  unexpected  joy,  and  there  an  un- 
looked for  sorrow  ; athwart  a pitfall,  when  the  footing 
seems  quite  firm  ; and  so  we  grope  on.  The  present,  how- 
ever, is  ours.  No  power  can  wrest  it  from  us.  And  let 
wisdom’s  voice,  the  voice  of  God,  if  you  please  so  to  call 
it,  sounding  to  us  louder  at  this  than  other  times,  be  heard 
and  heeded  by  us,  and  lead  us  to  improve  it. 

My  last  words  to  you  shall  be  upon  a feature  of  this  sad 
event,  which  I am  not  willing  to  pass  by.  Why  is  it  that 
the  young  preacher  of  the  gospel  is  stricken  down  when 


41 


just  prepared  to  utter  his  message  ? Why  does  the 
great  Captain,  who  can  ward  off  the  missiles,  allow  His 
soldiers  to  be  wounded  to  the  death  before  they  have 
scarce  ever  fought  a battle  ? It  does  look  mysterious. 
Such  themes,  you  remember,  perplexed,  at  times,  the 
Psalmist,  and  Scotia’s  ingenuous  bard,  asked,  almost  in 
despair  at  the  news  of  the  premature  death  of  his  patron : 
“ Oh  ! why  has  worth  so  short  a date?”  We  might  ask 
why  John  the  Baptist’s  ministry  was  so  abruptly  closed, 
after  more  than  thirty  years  of  self-abnegation  and  com- 
munion with  his  Lord  had  fitted  him  for  the  work  which 
he  performed  so  successfully,  but  for  so  short  a time  ? 
Why  was  the  Saviour’s  ministry  confined  to  the  brief 
space  of  less  than  four  years?  Or  why  was  St.  Stephen, 
when  the  whole  world  lay  in  darkness  — why  was  this 
faithful  and  fearless  proto -martyr  so  early  cut  off,  when 
fearless  and  faithful  preachers  were  so  much  needed  to  con- 
vert the  nations  far  and  nigh  ? 

Oh  ! mysterious  though  it  be,  there  is  a Providence  in 
it,  and  the  earlier  Christians  saw  it,  to  some  extent  at 
least,  as  we  may.  They  saw  that  the  blood  of  the  mar- 
tyrs was  the  seed  of  the  Church  ; that  man  can  glorify 
God  by  dying  as  well  as  living.  We  tread  warily,  as  it 
becomes  us,  on  ground  such  as  this.  But,  my  brethren, 
I am  not  to  disguise  my  firm  belief  that  one  purpose  of 
God’s  all -wise  providence  will  be  lost,  if  the  effect  be  not 
to  bind  you  more  closely  together ; to  lead  you  to  love 
more  dearly  than  ever  before  the  Saviour,  who  has  not 
thought  it  too  much  that  one  of  His  servants  should  lay 
down  a young  and  vigorous  life  in  your  midst,  while  en- 
gaged, occupied , heart,  mind  and  soul,  in  the  work  of  secur- 
6 


42 


ing  the  eternal  salvation  of  your  own  and  children’s  souls. 
See  in  it,  I entreat  you,  another,  another  evidence  of  His 
love.  Let  it  be  another  link  to  connect  the  thoughts  and 
affections  of  us  all  with  the  land  beyond  the  grave.  Let 
us  resolve,  as  we  pronounce  our  final  “ well  done,”  our 
united  requiescat  over  his  ashes,  and  retire  from  the  tomb, 
that  such  shall  be  its  effect  upon  us. 

So  may  we  see,  it  may  be  in  this  life,  that  “ all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  those  who  love  God so  shall 
we  undoubtedly  see  in  the  brighter  world,  where,  I pray 
God,  we  may  all  once  more  meet,  and  hear  from  the  lips 
of  Him  who  erst  pronounced  it,  the  last  “ well  done,”  and 
join  again,  may  I not  say,  with  raptures  of  holy  joy, 
friends  and  relatives  who  have  departed  in  the  faith,  and 
with  them,  as  with  the  brother  whose  loss  we  now  mourn, 
enter  fully  into  the  promised  joy  of  our  Lord. 


43 


Close  of  a sermon  delivered  by  the  Rev.  WILLIAM  F.  Mor 
GAN,  D.  D.,  Rector  of  St.  Thomas  Churchy  at  the  Parish 
Church , Sunday , Feb.  20,  1870. 

“ Yesterday,  toward  evening,  in  the  presence  of  a mourn- 
ing congregation,  and  a family  circle  bowed  beneath  the 
weight  of  a great  affliction,  I committed  to  the  dust  a 
Brother  in  the  ministry  of  Christ,  to  whom  in  his  last 
hour  of  life  the  whole  meaning  of  the  text  might  be 
applied  — he  died  in  faith.  I refer  to  the  Rev.  Henry 
Duyckinck,  a young  clergyman  of  unusual  culture  and 
promise,  who  was  born  and  nurtured  in  this  parish,  and 
for  a time  an  assistant  minister  at  our  altar.  He  was  in- 
deed a faithful  servant  of  the  great  Master,  and  chiefly 
laboring  among  the  poor,  brought  forth  fruit  with  pa- 
tience. Let  me  not  open  my  lips,  however,  to  praise 
him,  or  to  recount  his  many  excellences,  or  to  wound  a 
sacred  grief  by  public  mention  of  one  who  in  life  had  no 
aspiration  after  the  notice  or  applause  of  the  world.  And 
yet  deny  me  not  the  privilege  of  thanking  God,  even 
publicly  if  it  seem  good,  when  any  of  the  old  flock  die  in 
faith  ; when  the  religion  which  was  nourished  in  other 
years  within  our  parish,  sustains  them  on  their  dying  pil- 
lows. It  is  a joy  to  me.  It  should  be  a spur  and  encour- 
agement to  you,  to  rest  as  we  may  upon  the  assurance 
that  this  young  disciple  and  Priest  has  joined  the  innu- 
merable company  of  the  faithful  dead,  and  that  his  name 
is  registered  among  the  saints.” 


44 


LETTER 

FROM  THE  VESTRY  OF  ST.  MARK’S. 


New  York,  March  7,  1870. 

To  Mr.  Evert  A.  Dqyckinck: 

Dear  Sir, — The  undersigned,  Vestrymen  and  Wardens 
of  St.  Mark’s  Church  in  the  Bowerie,  take  this  method  of 
expressing  their  sorrow  at  the  loss  that  has  recently  be- 
fallen you  and  their  Church  through  the  demise  of  your 
son,  Rev.  Henry  Duyckinck,  late  Rector  of  St.  Mark’s 
Chapel.  Their  sympathy  with  you  is  all  the  more  pro- 
found, because  your  bereavement  is  somewhat  their  own. 

Although  the  term  of  the  service  of  the  deceased  with 
St.  Mark’s  Mission  was  very  brief,  it  was  nevertheless 
sufficient  to  endear  him  to  all  with  whom  he  came  in  con- 
tact, and  even  those  who  knew  him  little,  loved  him  well. 
The  record  he  has  left  behind  him  is  so  pure  and  unsullied  ; 
his  loyalty  to  his  Master’s  work  so  sincere  and  unques- 
tioned ; the  manifestations  of  grief  among  his  people,  when 
the  tidings  of  his  death  became  known,  so  profound  and 
impressive,  demonstrating,  in  a very  marked  degree,  the 
strength  and  earnestness  of  his  character  and  manner*  that 
we  cannot  doubt  his  memory  will  long  be  cherished  with 
the  warmest  respect  and  esteem. 

For  the  loss  we  mutually  mourn  there  is  no  consolation 
save  in  a holy  and  undying  faith,  that  having  completed 
his  work  here,  our  brother  has  gone  to  the  reward  prom- 
ised hereafter. 

We  remain,  dear  sir,  very  truly,  your  friends, 


HENRY  B.  RENWICK, 
IRVING  PARIS, 

E.  B.  WESLEY, 

P.  C.  SCHUYLER, 
EDWARD  OOTHOUT, 


JAMES  MORRIS, 
JAMES  PURDON, 

WM.  H.  SCOTT, 
GEORGE  H.  MORGAN, 
WILLIAM  REMSEN. 


45 


At  the  regular  meeting  of  the  St.  Luke’s  Association  of 
Grace  Parish  in  the  city  of  New  York,  held  Feb.  22,  1870, 
information  was  given  of  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Henry 
Duyckinck.  Very  touching  eulogies  were  made  by  Mr. 
J.  T.  Harris  and  Mr.  Wilson  Small,  after  which  a com- 
mittee of  four  was  appointed  to  draft  resolutions  of  sor- 
row, and  present  them  at  the  next  meeting.  The  follow- 
ing preamble  and  resolutions  were  accordingly  presented 
by  the  committee  and  unanimously  adopted  : 

Whereas,  It  has  pleased  God  in  the  wise  dispensation 
of  his  providence,  to  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  his  usefulness 
our  beloved  friend  and  as  sociate  the  Rev.  Henry  Duyck- 
inck, who  has  been  our  assistant  and  counselor  in  our 
work  of  the  relief  of  the  poor,  sick  and  dying,  ever  ready 
to  give  both  his  time  and  means  at  the  call  of  the  suffering 
and  afflicted,  always  showing  his  earnest  zeal  and  devo- 
tion to  his  Master’s  work,  therefore  be  it 

Resolved,  That  the  members  of  the  St.  Luke’s  Asso- 
ciation of  Grace  Parish,  feel  they  have  lost  in  his  death  one 
of  their  most  valued  associates,  one  whose  talents  justly 
fitted  him  for  a more  prominent  position  in  the  Church,  but 
whose  innate  modesty  of  character  kept  him  from  seeking 
the  high  places  of  the  earth,  and  led  him  to  choose  the 
more  Christlike  duty  of  preaching  to  the  poor;  that 
none  who  have  been  under  his  administrations  in  the 
Church,  and  who  have  been  associated  with  him  in  acts 
of  mercy,  as  we  have  been,  but  must  feel  that  they  have 


lost  by  his  death  a most  valued  friend  and  assistant,  one 
whose  memory  we  shall  ever  cherish  as  an  incentive  to 
increased  devotion  in  our  Master’s  work. 

Resolved,  That  we  extend  our  heartfelt  sympathy  to 
the  family  and  friends  of  our  deceased  brother,  whose 
kindness  of  heart,  gentleness  of  disposition,  zeal  and  faith- 
fulness in  the  cause  of  Christ,  must  have  made  his  loss  a 
more  than  ordinary  affliction. 


Resolved,  That  in  respect  to  his  memory  the  above 
Preamble  and  Resolutions  be  recorded  in  the  books  of 
the  Association,  and  a copy  of  the  same  be  transmitted  to 
his  family. 


John  I.  Thomas, 
Joseph  T.  Harris, 
John  Lobdell, 
Wilson  Small. 


' Committee. 


WILSON  SMALL,  President. 
F.  LOCKWOOD,  Secretary. 


47 


THE  REV.  HENRY  DUYCKINCK. 

From,  The  Church  Journal,  March  9, 1870. 

The  simple  notice  in  “ The  Church  Journal  ” of  February 
23d,  of  a service  commemorative  of  the  late  Rev.  Henry 
Duyckinck,  to  be  held  at  St.  Mark’s  Church  in  the  Bow- 
ery, on  Sunday  evening,  February  27th,  called  attention 
to  the  last  public  manifestation  of  esteem  and  affection  for 
one  whose  many  virtues  and  rare  modesty  will  be  remem- 
bered very  far  hence.  He  was  one  of  those  faithful  ser- 
vants whose  delight  it  Avas  to  minister  to  Christ’s  poor 
according  to  the  Master’s  injunctions,  as  doing  it  unto  the 
Lord,  and  whose  blessed  remembrance  passes  on  to  the 
other  shore.  With  no  other  aim  than  the  Master’s  work, 
he  spent  the  three  years  since  his  graduation  at  the  Gen- 
eral Seminary,  mainly  in  the  work  of  a missionary  among 
our  city  poor.  No  personal  preferences  could  lead  him 
to  relinquish  this  work,  and  no  summer  recreations  ever 
lured  him  from  it.  Loving  the  Saviour,  he  loved  them 
that  were  His,  and  like  the  great  Exemplar,  he  loved 
them  to  the  end.  He  was  stricken  down  at  the  close  of 
a day  of  labor  among  the  people  of  St.  Mark’s  Mission, 
where  he  had  been  placed  in  charge,  and  “departed  hence 
in  the  Lord  ” but  five  days  thereafter.  His  funerai  was 
attended  at  the  parish  church  of  St.  Mark,  on  Saturday, 
Feb.  19th,  near  the  close  of  the  day,  the  Revs.  Wm.  F. 
Morgan,  D.  D.,  Samuel  R.  Johnson,  D.  D.,  and  James  P. 
Franks  officiating,  and  a large  assembly  of  the  members 
of  this  parish,  as  also  from  the  congregations  of  St.  Bar- 
nabas Mission,  Grace  Chapel,  and  the  church  of  the  Holy 
Martyrs,  where  he  had  frequently  ministered,  testifying 


48 


by  their  presence  to  their  sense  of  deep  bereavement. 
Most  abundant  floral  offerings  betokened  the  loving  re- 
membrance of  friends,  and  the  soothing  strains  of  Bishop 
Ken’s  “ Glory  to  Thee,  my  God,  this  night,”  sung  by  the 
choir  of  St.  Mark’s,  told  of  thankfulness  for  the  good  ex- 
ample of  His  servant,  when  the  night  was  fast  coming  on. 

On  the  morning  of  Sunday,  Feb.  27th,  in  St.  Mark’s 
Mission  chapel,  his  funeral  sermon  was-  preached  by  his 
predecessor  in  that  charge,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Krans  of  Bos- 
ton, from  the  text  “ Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful 
servant.”  The  service  in  the  parish  church  in  the  even- 
ing was  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  on  the  work  which 
this  devoted  man  had  not  been  spared  to  finish.  The  last 
sermon  which  he  had  written  was  a statement  of  the  work 
of  his  mission,  and  a plea  for  its  importance.  This  ser- 
mon, from  the  text,  “The  rich  and  the  poor  meet'togeth- 
er,”  he  had  purposed  to  deliver  in  St.  Mark’s  church  on 
the  Sunday  succeeding  his  fatal  attack.  He  never  re- 
turned to  his  work,  but  his  plea  was  presented  on  this 
occasion,  in  his  own  written  words,  by  the  Rev.  Henry 
C.  Potter,  D.  D.,  rector  of  Grace  Church,  who  prefaced 
the  sermon  with  a short  sketch  of  the  life  of  its  writer. 
There  were  also  present,  and  assisting  in  the  services,  the 
Rev.  Messrs.  Franks,  Krans,  and  W.  M.  Jones  ; the  mu- 
sical parts,  and  the  hymn  “ Pilgrims  of  the  Night,”  from 
“ Hymns  Ancient  and  Modern,”  being  sung  by  the  chil- 
dren of  the  choir  of  St.  Mark’s  chapel.  He  fell  at  his 
post  of  duty.  Pretiosa , in  conspectu  Domini , mors  sanc- 
torum Ejns  est. 

W.  M.  J. 

New  York,  March,  1,  1870. 


